The Rules No One Taught Us

Chapter Two of Other People’s Children, “The Silenced Dialogue,” covers many ideas, but what continued to stand out to me was the power of expectations and assumptions—especially the assumptions teachers make about what students and families already know.

Delpit writes, “What school personnel fail to understand is that if the parents were members of the culture of power and lived by its rules and codes, then they would transmit those codes to their children. In fact, they transmit another culture that children learn at home in order to survive in their communities.” That quote resonated deeply with me. Students—particularly students of color—often grow up learning the rules necessary to survive and thrive in their communities. From an early age, many parents begin instilling the knowledge needed to navigate a world that may not always be designed to work in their favor.

While this is not the experience of every family of color, it reflects my own upbringing. As the child of two Black parents (and a family of educators), education was absolutely a priority in my home. However, my parents also prioritized teaching my siblings and me how the world works—how to move through it safely and wisely. They trusted schools to focus on academics. Looking back, I now understand that Delpit is suggesting that students like myself may enter school academically capable, yet unaware of the unspoken expectations embedded in the “culture of power.” When those rules are not explicitly taught, students can be faulted for not following norms they were never told existed.

In environments that are meant to be equitable—whether elementary classrooms or doctoral programs—the rules should not be hidden. Delpit argues that “being told explicitly the rules of codes of power makes acquiring power easier.” She reinforces this idea throughout the chapter by emphasizing that access to power is tied to understanding the language, behaviors, and expectations valued by dominant institutions. She is not arguing that students must abandon their home culture. Rather, she is asserting that withholding access to the codes of power in the name of equality actually maintains inequality. If educators truly want students to succeed, especially those who do not learn these codes at home, then we must teach them directly and unapologetically.

Another concept that unsettled me was the idea of “veiled commands.” On page 34, Delpit writes, “The attempt by the teacher to reduce an exhibition of power by expressing herself in indirect terms may remove the very explicitness that the child needs to understand the rules of the new classroom culture.” This statement felt incredibly important. I have seen this dynamic play out repeatedly, especially with new teachers entering urban schools. Some come in attempting to soften their authority by being indirect, hoping to appear less controlling. However, students who are unfamiliar with that communication style may interpret indirectness as optional.

The teachers who thrive are the ones who observe, learn, and adjust. They recognize that being explicit is not oppressive—it is clarifying. Being aware of one’s power as an educator is important, but being aware of your audience is equally crucial. Early in my work with children and youth, I learned the importance of clarity and directness. While some students can infer expectations easily, others benefit from clearly stated guidelines. Tone of voice, cultural norms, learning differences, and communication styles all matter. Managing a diverse classroom requires more than good intentions; it requires intentional communication.

Ultimately, the overarching message I took from this chapter is that silence does not create equity—clarity does. When we assume students “should just know,” we reinforce barriers. When we explicitly teach the rules, we create access. Teaching the codes of power is not about assimilation; it is about opportunity. If we truly believe in empowering all students, then we must be willing to name the rules, explain them, and give every child the tools to navigate the systems they inhabit. Only then can success become less about who already knew the game and more about who was finally taught how to play it.